


Honey Trap

by fakingg_sanity



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Drama, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mystery, Team Torchwood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25903642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakingg_sanity/pseuds/fakingg_sanity
Summary: It's always hard to spot a honey trap, at least until you find yourself, hand stuck in a jar and completely at the mercy of those who led you there.Torchwood have a mystery to solve. With terrifying readings, a major blast from the past, haunting memories for all of them and a series of breadcrumbs that seemingly lead no where. Team Torchwood are being baited and stalked, and someone's coming out the shadows to start something that could result in the end of the world as we know it.This is a trap, but you won't know until it's far too late.
Relationships: Gwen Cooper/Rhys Williams, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 16
Kudos: 35





	1. The Message

He squinted through his binoculars towards the two men running down the street below him. He was crouched on the roof of a small apartment complex, successfully avoiding two of the security guards to get up there, ignoring the one he had to knock out by the stairs. A machine next to him beeped. _Beep. Beep. Beep._ Steady rift activity. The two men below stopped running. The one in the suit reached his hand out to the other, wearing a large blue coat, and pointed at the small device in his hand. He gestured further up the road, and they began running again, both drawing guns from their waistbands. A camera clicked. _Click. Click._ Taking pictures of them. The man on the roof noted the direction they were running and wrote quickly in his notebook. He grabbed his bag and stuffed his binoculars, along with the small beeping device, inside. He picked up his camera and rushed across the roof and down the stairs, being careful to step over the unconscious security guard.

The man emerged onto the street; it was a cool night in Cardiff, the air rustling the leaves on a nearby tree. The man looked up and down the street, checking the coast was clear, then he began following the two men. He eventually reached the opening to an alleyway, and he heard voices as he approached. Slowing, he readied his camera and peaked it around the corner. The two men were there, standing over a body and arguing quietly. _“I don’t want to lift it, Jack, this is a new suit” “Well, you’re going to have to help me, this weevil is a fully matured male, and it weighs more than I can carry alone.” “Well whose fault is that? If you tried to go to the gym more oft-”_

 _Click. Click. Click._ The camera snapped picture after picture of the two men as they gently lifted the body and began waddling towards the alleyway entrance. The man lowered his camera and smiled to himself, then backed away from the alley, and began to run the other way. He ran past a large black SUV, and made sure to get a couple of pictures of that too. He ran all the way back to an empty warehouse just outside of Cardiff town centre. He let himself in through a side door and whistled gleefully as he came across his humble sleeping arrangements. He first reached for his computer, set up on a small table shoved into a corner. He inserted the SD card from the camera and watched as the images began to upload. He smiled and moved towards the mattress pressed up against the dirty wall. He landed heavily onto it, and smiled up at the pictures in front of him, plastered onto the wall. Hundreds of pictures of the two men, as well as two women and another man who always wore a leather jacket. Different coloured string joined the pictures to different locations on an enlarged map of Cardiff, pins marked the spots the man had seen all of them. And right at the centre of all of it, was a picture of the Torchwood One tower at Canary Wharf, burnt and destroyed, with red letters scratched underneath: _Revenge_.

\-----

Jack and Ianto dragged the weevil back towards the SUV; they moved slowly in almost silence, aside from Jack grumbling about why they didn’t park the car any closer. Ianto rolled his eyes and tried in vain to keep as much of the weevil dirt off of his new suit. When they reached the car, they unceremoniously dumped their newest resident into the boot, and brushed their hands off. Jack grinned.

“Another successful mission, ay tiger?” Jack’s smile could light up a whole room, and bring warmth to any chilly Cardiff night, but Ianto wasn’t having it. He shook his head and walked round to the driver’s side of the car.

“It was hardly a mission, Jack. We do weevil pick-ups every other day.” Ianto slammed the car door and started the engine. Jack climbed in the passenger side and frowned at Ianto.

“Well, excuse me for trying to bring a bit of wonder and excitement to this Thursday evening regularity. Just trying to keep the flame alight.” Jack settled back into his seat and gave Ianto a side look that he hoped told Ianto he was messing about and to please not yell at him. Ianto rolled his eyes fondly and started the car. 

“If there’s one thing I’m confident you don’t need to worry about, Jack, it’s us managing to keep the ‘flame’ alight.” He smiled at Jack, who was grinning ear to ear. They drove back to the hub in comfortable silence, with only minimal groping from Jack, then went straight to bed after settling Janet’s new roommate, and woke up to three separate alarms blaring loudly from the main hub above them.

\-----

Toshiko jumped awake. She’d barely slept, the August heat heavy in her bedroom, keeping her from the deep sleep she desperately needed. It’d been a hell of a few months. Non-stop really. So of course, the first night she’d made it back to her bed before midnight turned out to be the hottest, sweatiest and most unbearable night Cardiff had seen all summer. Jack had let them leave early after she’d informed him that her rift activity monitor was predicting a night of absolutely nothing. They’d all jumped at the chance of an early night for each of them to do whatever they wanted. Owen had b-lined straight for the pub, pausing briefly to be blown off by Ianto who apparently had other plans. Gwen had rung Rhys and disappeared with her phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder, grinning like crazy. Tosh had headed home herself after waving to Jack and Ianto, who were sharing a drink in Jack’s office. She called the pizza place from her car, planning a perfect evening of good food, a good film and a bottle of bloody good wine. That explained the slight headache as she rubbed her eyes awake.

Her alarm was going off. No… she blinked and rolled over in bed. It wasn’t her alarm. It was her PDA. She reached over to her bedside table and grasped for the device, always within arm’s reach. Tosh rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she blearily looked over the readings. Then she jumped up. Almost as soon as she had registered what the readings were, her phone started ringing. She answered it immediately.

_“Toshiko?”_

“Jack.”

 _“Have you seen?”_ Jack sounded panicked, his voice flat. He was clearly trying to stay calm. Tosh nodded, even though she knew Jack couldn’t see her.

“Just. I’ll be in now, give me 10 minutes.”

 _“Make it 5.”_ Jack hung up. Tosh flung the duvet off her body and raced to her wardrobe. No time for a shower. No time for anything except getting to the hub as fast as she possibly could.

\-----

Owen stared at his ceiling. He was looking at the way the tiles slotted together. The shapes they made. The endless squares, rectangles, and if he tilted his head sideways, diamonds, that he could see. Sleep was evading him again, there had been plenty of nights recently spent memorising the patterns of the ceiling above him. It didn’t help that is was unbearably hot, even the thin sheet covering him from the waist down felt clingy and warm. He could hear the girl breathing next to him. Deep breaths. Almost like she was reliving last night in her mind. Owen thought back to last night himself. He’d left work early, the boss had predicted a quiet night, so he’d staggered across the way to the Dockside and picked up the first pretty thing he could find. Ianto had turned down his offer to go on the pull together, it didn’t take a genius to see why. Jack was clearly interested, Owen wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out they were shagging again.

He’d brought the girl back to his flat, and the rest was a bit of a blur. He knew they’d shagged, but he’d bought her a lot of drinks before they’d made it back to his, and by extension, he’d got absolutely battered himself. The girl moaned in her sleep and Owen half grinned over at her. She was a hell of a bag. He only felt a little bad he’d slept with her. He’d promised himself he’d stop doing this; stop the one-night stands and the excessive drinking and the hurting everyone around him. Oh well. Relapses were natural. Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all. And she was quite the girl to break his promise to himself over.

His phone ringing made him jump. The girl rolled over and blinked her eyes hazily up at him. Owen groaned and reached to the bedside table for his phone. Jack. Of course. Owen checked the time: 6am. He wasn’t late, not by any means. So why the hell was Jack ringing so early. He answered.

“What the hell Harkness? This better be good.” Owen listened to Jack on the other end of the phone, and sat up higher in bed. “Is Ianto okay?” Owen closed his eyes and scrubbed his free hand down his face. The girl was well and truly awake now, and hanging off his arm, peppering kisses up his neck. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Owen hung up the phone and chucked it on the side. He stood up quickly, shaking the girl off, and started looking for his clothes.

“You have to go. I’m sorry.” The girl looked upset and confused.

“Why? Come back to bed…” She stretched her body across his mattress. The sheet slipped, revealing the supple body underneath. Owen shook his head and hopped into his jeans.

“I can’t. And you can’t stay. I’ve got to go into work, there’s an emergency.”

“But it’s so early…” Her voice was smooth like sweet cream. But Owen felt himself getting angry. He stormed towards her, and she shot up in bed, scared of how serious he suddenly was.

“Get. Out.” Owen spat through gritted teeth. The girl wasted no time. She stood quickly, gathered her clothes and ran off to the bathroom to get dressed. She was out the front door before Owen had even found his wallet and keys. He grabbed his gun, stuffed it into his waistband, and ran out the door not far behind her.

\-----

Gwen was in a deep sleep. Last night was the best she’d had in months. Jack had let them all leave early after a particularly gruelling past few weeks, and she and Rhys had had the most wonderful night. They’d gone to a gorgeous restaurant. Gwen had even worn heals, a true testament to how momentous the evening was. She never wore heals anymore, her feet always too tired from days chasing aliens here there and everywhere. They’d wined and dined, and laughed and kissed pressed up against the wall of a building on the walk home. And they’d stumbled into bed and had the most wonderful night Gwen could remember. She’d fallen asleep relaxed and in a state of post-coital euphoria you only really read about in trashy romance novels.

She was roused from her bone deep sleep by Rhys. He was nudging her arm and grumbling about something. Gwen blinked her eyes open. And was greeted with an image of Rhys’s bare leg. She sat up and realised she was the wrong way up on the bed. She smiled dopily, seeing now more than just Rhys’s bare leg. The duvet was flung halfway across the room, the combination of sex and the sweltering summer heat enough to make anyone despise the thought of a thick duvet over them. She prodded Rhys on the bum and laughed when he grumbled again. Her phone started to ring. She picked it up and stared at the screen. _Shit_. 4 missed calls from Jack and another incoming. She answered the call, already climbing out of bed and starting to look for her pants.

\-----

Ianto was sat on the tattered sofa under the Torchwood sign, biting his thumbnail and bouncing his leg. Up and down. Up and down. The movement almost blurring his knee. The room felt as if it was moving in slow motion, yet all too quickly at the same time. Jack was in his office, on the phone to someone. UNIT probably. Tosh was at her computer, typing furiously. Ianto watched her with glassy eyes, barely seeing her. He could see Owen across the hub, emptying the armoury of everything they might need and gearing himself up. The too bright lights above the cog door lit up and it began to open, Gwen rushed in. She threw her coat on the sofa next to Ianto without even looking at him and stormed into Jack’s office.

The lights. The alarm. The clunk _clunk_ as Owen heavily landed guns onto a trolley cart. Tosh’s erratic typing and the voices from Jack’s office. It was all too much. Ianto clamped his hands over his ears and closed his eyes tightly. He could feel his heart rate increasing and his breathing speeding up. Somewhere in the back corner of his mind, he registered Toshiko shouting for help, and the clattering of footsteps nearby. He felt rough hands on his arms and a soothing voice next to his hear. He increased the pressure on his ears, desperate to block out all the sounds he could near. Not only in the hub, but the ones in his head too. The heavy stomp of incoming footsteps, the nearby explosions, the screams… god, the screams…

Ianto felt a small prick in his thigh and opened his eyes, gasping. Jack and Owen were there, the latter holding a small needle and looking worried. Ianto looked over to Jack and grasped at his shirt. Jack was right there. Ianto wasn’t where he thought he was. He was safe. For now.

“Jack, we’ve got to go.” Jack looked over at Owen, and nodded grimly. Owen called Gwen over and started gearing her up: bullet proof vest with electricity resistant shoulder pads, 2 guns and a specialty comm unit. Jack smoothed a hand down Ianto’s cheek, and Ianto felt the pull of a deep sleep. He tried to speak, to object. To tell Jack that he was okay and that he could do the mission. But it was too late, the sedative was taking over. Ianto vaguely heard Owen telling Tosh to look after him, and to notify them if anything happened. They would be back soon, and hopefully having put a stop to this before it ever has the chance to begin. The last thing Ianto saw on the screen before forced sleep took him was the message they’d picked up that morning, plastered across all of their screens. The message that had caused Torchwood to explode with activity, the message that had terrified its members. The message that brought back such terrible memories of two different nights in years too recent. A dangerous message accompanied with rift activity co-ordinates in the middle of Cardiff city centre. A message that simply read: _Delete_.


	2. Chapter 2

The incessant beeping from above slowly filtered through Ianto’s deep fog of sleep. He was curled into Jack’s side in his tiny bunk, far too small for two people to sleep comfortably, but they made do. They’d gotten in late from a surprise weevil alert that had interrupted their otherwise… _occupied_ evening. And they’d certainly made efforts to try and recapture the magic from before the alarm, leaving Ianto exhausted as he was forced awake from a deep, relaxed sleep. He sat up, balancing on his elbow and shook Jack awake.

“Jack…” The older man grumbled and rolled over. “Jack, wake up. Alarms…” Ianto swung his legs off the edge of the bed and stood, reaching for his suit trousers and a shirt. Jack sat up in bed, holding his head and squinting. He’s been in an uncharacteristically deep sleep, and found himself quite annoyed at the rude awakening. By the time Jack had struggled out of bed and into his trousers, Ianto was already climbing the ladder up top. Ianto found himself in front of Owen’s computer. He tapped through the alerts, and was surprised to see an incoming message, accompanied with rift activity at a location in the town centre, suggesting something was coming through. And finally, a red alert. The latter flashing on all of the screens around the hub, and causing a loud alarm that was ringing in Ianto’s ears. The message popped up. Just one word flashing over and over again, but it was clear as day what it meant. What it meant for all of them…

Ianto staggered backwards, away from the computers. His stomach sank, almost hitting the floor. He vaguely heard Jack coming up from his bunker and walking over. “Ianto?” Jack’s voice seemed a million miles away. He felt Jack touch his shoulder gently, then watched as he turned to the screen and saw the message for himself. “Christ…” Jack muttered, head whipping back to Ianto. He cupped Ianto’s cheeks in his rough hands and searched his empty eyes. Ianto wasn’t seeing him, no, he was seeing something else.

Jack guided Ianto to the sofa and sat him down gently, then rushed to grab his phone. He needed to call the team, they needed to get to the hub asap and this needed to get sorted before anyone got hurt. As Jack dialled the phone to call Tosh, he looked over worriedly at Ianto through the windows of his office. He was staring dead ahead, eyes unfocussed. Jack knew he was scared, hell, Jack was terrified himself. But someone needed to take charge here, and who better than the Captain.

Ianto tried to bring himself back to the hub. He tried to force the invasive images of fire and metal and burnt skin from his mind. He looked to the screen where the message was blinking in large white letters. _Delete…_ That could only mean one thing. Cybermen. The thought was too painful to bear, and Ianto again found himself fighting the difficult memories that seemed to claw through his subconscious.

Ianto didn’t know how much time had passed. But the next thing he knew, Owen was squatting in front of him, flashing a torch into his eyes and taking his pulse. Jack was pacing in and out of Ianto’s eyeline, hand clasping a phone to his ear. The call much have ended unsuccessfully because Jack threw his phone on Owen’s desk in frustration and pressed his hand to his brow. “Still no answer?” Owen asked, briefly diverting his attention away from Ianto. Ianto looked to Jack, who was shaking his head. “Nothing. Start gearing up. Get everything from the armoury for you, me and Gwen. I’ll keep trying. If she doesn’t pick up in the next 5 minutes, we take Tosh and leave now.”

Ianto wanted to speak. To tell Jack he would go. But his voice wasn’t working. Owen stood and ran to the armoury. Tosh was typing furiously. And Ianto felt like he was seeing it all through a thick sheet of polished glass.

\-----

Jack’s boots crunched on the gravel as he stepped heavily out of the SUV. His footsteps seemed deafening in the relative morning silence of Cardiff city centre. The sounds of two car doors slamming shut behind him made him stop, look around, then continue walking slowly with his gun drawn. Gwen and Owen were steps behind him. He knew their guns would be trained too, eyes open wide, ready to shoot at the slightest sign of danger.

On the ground, around thirty feet in front of them, there was a mass of something. Jack squinted. But he couldn’t quite make it out. “Over there!” Jack called to Gwen and Owen, gesturing ahead. Owen overtook him, walking slightly quicker.

“Tosh? Any readings?” Owen tapped his comm unit and waiting for Tosh’s response. He slowed his steps as he came closer to the mass on the floor, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. _“All steady. Nothing new coming in. Just the residual energy from whatever came through.”_ Tosh’s tinny voice came through all of their earpieces. “ _And before any of you ask, Ianto’s okay. Sleeping it off on the sofa.”_ Jack sighed in relief, trying not to dwell too much on how hard Ianto would find the outcome of this mission, whatever the end result. That message, the memories it would have brought up. Hell, Jack was struggling himself. He tried to ignore the pushing thoughts of the aftermath of the Canary Wharf, the destruction he had seen. Or the feeling of Lisa’s electric grip on his shoulder, shocking the life out of him. He shook his head, forcing the thoughts away, and focused on the now.

They inched closer to the unmoving mound. “What the hell is that?” Owen half whispered as they got closer. Jack leaned forward and nearly collapsed as relief coursed through his body. He lowered his gun slightly, still not quite ready to let his guard down fully. “Gwen. Get the containment box, the big one. It’s okay.” Gwen nodded and turned back to the SUV. Owen and Jack finally stepped right up and saw the broken and scorched remains of a lone Cyberman. Half of the creatures torso was burned away, leaving a diagonal scorch line dissecting the chest plate. The head was charred, with one of the eye holes completely blown through. And finally, about a foot away from the rest of it, was the cyber arm. Jack felt a chill run through him, knowing what they were capable of.

Jack tapped his comm while holstering his gun. Owen did the same. “Tosh. We’re okay here. The remains of one Cyberman…” Jack surveyed the scene, and looked quickly at the readings on his wrist strap. “I’m thinking the message came through before the rift activity. Maybe more Cybermen tried to get through, but the rift closed before even one was able to make it. It looks like it’s been damaged by the rift closing around it.”

Owen crouched down, inspecting the damaged metal, and listened as Tosh’s voice appeared in his ear. _“Roger that. Bring it back to the hub and we’ll take scans and hopefully prove that theory.”_ Gwen appeared with the containment box and 3 pairs of heavy-duty gloves. Her and Owen quietly began to pack the pieces of the cyberman away. Jack watched them, unmoving. He felt conflicted between relief and dread, somehow feeling that this wasn’t quite over yet…

\-----

_Click. Click. Click._

The camera snapped.

The man watched, leant slightly over the low brick wall. He was sat, not far away, on another high roof top, just out of sight. He watched as the leather jacket, big blue coat and dark-haired woman lifted the cyberman into the box and started to walk slowly back to their vehicle. He’s half expected the suit to have been there, but if he wasn’t that meant the plan was working. He turned to the computer set up next to him on a small packing crate, and scrolled through the readings. It felt good to see a plan coming together.

The man scribbled something in his notebook and let the camera click away, taking more photos for his wall. He observed the three torchwood agents clamber into their obnoxiously sized car and drive off into the distance. He laughed. The computer beeped. He looked down and there was his next alert, ready to be deployed as soon as the time was right.

\-----

Ianto stirred the coffee absentmindedly. He felt embarrassed, annoyed at himself that he’d let himself be so vulnerable in front of the team. Frustrated he couldn’t control his anxiety. He was trying to remind himself as he prepared the team’s coffee for the board meeting, that he had come such a long way since a bottle of vodka and a bottle of pills and calling Mandy in the middle of the night. But that it was okay to be scared for these things. He had unique experiences after all. And Canary Wharf, the night Lisa died… they weren’t too long ago, and still fresh enough that the reminder of them stung. Especially in the threat of another potential cyber-attack. Ianto tried to not think about that possible circumstance too hard.

He’d woken up as the sedative had worn off, feeling groggy and upset, to Tosh telling him that all they’d found were a few bits of broken Cyberman, and that they were on their way back. There wasn’t even a need for retcon. He’d felt like a fool then. He couldn’t help thinking what if. What if that had been a fully-fledged cyber-attack? And he’d been out cold on the sofa, too afraid to even put a bullet proof vest on. How could he have lived with himself if something had happened to Owen or Gwen? Jack would have hated him for not being there. He’d have been executed, or thrown in prison for the rest of his life and forgotten about. He’d be-

Ianto hissed as the burning coffee spilled out of the mug and onto his hand. He realised he’d been zoned out, unfocused, and had been stirring the coffee with too much force. He muttered to himself, telling himself to get a grip. Running his hand under the cold water of the tap, Ianto closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. _You are safe. You are in control. You are safe. You are in control._

The alarm blaring brought him out of his head, and he looked up as Jack, Owen and Gwen entered through the cog door. Ianto tried not to look at the large containment box Gwen and Owen were carrying between them, but it was almost impossible to not imagine the dangerous contents within. He picked up the tray of coffee’s with slightly shaking hands and walked them to the boardroom where the others started to filter in.

He sat quietly as Jack took up the head of the table, and explained to him and Tosh what they had found at the site. They began to theorize on possible causes, reasons, plans or plots that could be occurring under Torchwood’s collective nose. Words like _invasion_ , dangerous, and _ghost shift_ were thrown around. Ianto tried to stay focused and in the room, he really did. But all he could think about was Torchwood one and his time there, in those fateful weeks leading up to the battle…

\-----

_Three Years Earlier_

Ianto stirred the coffee absentmindedly, watching as the milk swirled around the mug and slowly mixed in. He’d been at Torchwood for nearly a year now, and things were going well. He’d been promoted in quick succession. That had been something he’d learned quickly about how Torchwood ran. Jobs we’re less of a stationary position, and instead far more fluid. Staff turnover was certainly high. Ianto tried not to think too hard about why that was. His promotion had seen him jump from junior researcher, tucked away in the basement, to Yvonne _Bloody_ Hartman’s personal _bloody_ assistant. He couldn’t believe it. The pay was more money per annum than Ianto was brought up expecting to see in a lifetime. He was glad of it. The long hours gave him purpose and drive, and an excuse to avoid his family. He and Lisa were making a comfortable life for themselves in London. And the extra pay went straight into his savings for the house they’d one day buy together. He had friends. A life. He was happy. Happier than he ever thought possible as a scrawny teenager from the wrong side of town, born to a cruel man and a timid woman. All that was behind him now; he was a city boy and he looked the part.

A tap on his shoulder made him jump. Ianto turned around to see Alexander, a former colleague from the research department, holding a file and looking like an excited puppy. “Morning Alex, coffee?” Alex shook his head, and Ianto smiled. Alexander was new, well, newer than Ianto. He’d joined the research department just in time to see Ianto promoted out of there. Since then he seemed to pop up everywhere to ask Ianto questions, invite him to the pub, or request to join him on Yvonne’s private team. Ianto liked Alexander, he was fine, if a little eager. But it was always nice to know he was sought after, even if it was sometimes bordering on inappropriate.

“What can I do for you then?” Ianto sipped his coffee and looked expectantly at the younger man, only younger by a few months, but it seemed like more. Alex handed him a folder. Ianto took it, setting his coffee down and flipping the first page open.

“The ghost shifts?”

“The latest readings from last night. Yvonne will want to see them.” Ianto nodded thoughtfully and closed the folder.

“Thanks, Alex. I’ll get these sent up.” Ianto smiled shortly and made to move past Alex, who sidestepped with him, blocking his exit. “Is there something else?” Alex actually looked sheepish.

“Listen. Well. I was wondering, you see…” Alex stuttered. Ianto rolled his eyes. “Surely you guys could use a researcher on the team upstairs. Ask David, I’m as good as they come in the basement. And… And I’m ready for more!”

“We’ve got researchers on the project, Alex, we’ve been through this-”

“- I know! But I could be so good on that team, Ianto. I want to work on the ghost project so badly. I’ve been reading all the research and the readings that have come through. I know so much and I would be such an asset.”

Ianto rolled his eyes again, tired of this sad routine they seemed to go through every other day. “I don’t know what you want me to do, I’m not in charge of hiring and firing, I’m just Yvonne’s assistant. My main job is fetching coffee.”

“We both know that’s not true. You have sway in the department! Sway with Yvonne. Please Ianto, all I’m asking for is for you to put a good word in, that’s all. A good word…” Ianto looked sceptical. But he sensed Alex was only a few moments from getting on his knees and begging, so he sighed heavily, and nodded.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll speak to Yvonne about the _possibility_ of getting you moved up and put on the ghost shift team. Put I’m making no promises, okay?”

Alex looked positively giddy with excitement. “Yes! Thank you so much, Ianto! Thank you! I won’t let you down. Thank you, Thank you.” Ianto left the flapping Alex to his own devices and made his way towards the lift, folder tucked under one arm and coffee steaming in his hand. He watched as Alex excitedly waved at him as the lift doors closed, and wondered if this was a good idea after all.

\-----

After the boardroom meeting, Ianto had made a quick exit. Jack was worried. He’d rarely seen Ianto as such an anxious mess. Not since the night he’d saved Jack’s life by jumping through that portal. Jack had to admit how scary the thought of another cyber invasion was. He knew they’d been destroyed as a species, but there was always the future, and indeed the past. The worst part of living next to a rift in time and space, was always being connected to both. It didn’t matter if all the cybermen were gone now, they could always come back. Always.

Jack knew how brave Ianto was. He’d actually rarely met another soul quite as brave as Ianto Jones. But the cybermen held that power over him, and Jack suspected they always would. There were some memories too painful to revisit and heal from, there were some you simply had to bury. Jack knew all about that. He wanted to check the younger man was okay, to talk to him about what had happened, and what could happen. But Ianto had run off so quickly after the meeting, he now had to track him down. Jack had a pretty good idea of where to look.

He found Ianto easily, and he wasn’t surprised. Ianto Jones could be very predicable when he wanted to be. Jack closed the CCTV panel on his computer, bounded into the lift and out of the hub, through the tourist information centre and out into the muggy air of a summer in Cardiff. And there he was, Ianto Jones. Standing twenty or so feet away, leaning against the metal railing, and _smoking_. Jack rolled his eyes fondly and walked towards him.

Ianto didn’t notice Jack approaching, or if he did, he didn’t say anything. Jack came next to him, and leaned back on the railings, back against the warm metal and looking towards the water tower. Ianto didn’t speak. He brought the cigarette up to his lips and inhaled deeply. They stayed like that for a few moments, basking in the August sun; smoke and heat making their heads fuzzy.

“Penny for them?” Jack asked quietly as Ianto dropped the finished stub of his cigarette to the ground and pulled out a fresh one. Ianto lit it, and sighed.

“I’d be undercharging.” Ianto said, voice as dry as the hot day. Jack huffed out a quiet laugh.

“Okay, name your price.” Ianto seemed to think about this. He paused, cigarette half way to his lips, and smiled ever so slightly.

“A night off. And dinner, with you.” Ianto looked sideways at Jack, his subtle half smile genuine, if a little sad. Jack grinned.

“It’s a deal, and a date...” He bumped his shoulder against Ianto’s. “So, what’s running through that head of yours, Ianto Jones?”

Ianto’s smile dropped, he looked down to the water, watching the waves ripple against the boardwalk. He sighed heavily.

“It’s all just… so _there._ In my head. All the memories of Canary Wharf, the night Li- you know. Things I don’t normally like to think about, things that most days don’t even cross my mind. Just hearing that word, imaging I might have to go face to face with one of them again. It was too much to bear.” Ianto let out a long shuddering breath. “Once you’ve heard that word said to you, with the knowledge that it could be the last thing you ever hear. When you’ve seen what follows when that word is spoken…” Ianto cut himself off, voice breaking. Jack turned and wrapped his arm around Ianto, pulling him into his chest.

“I get it. And it’s okay. No one’s judging you. I think everyone would have been more concerned to be honest, if you’d just picked up a gun and marched out of the hub like nothing had happened.” Ianto let out a weak laugh, and closed his eyes against Jack’s shirt. “The experiences you have, the _recent_ experiences no less, are more than enough reason for you to be scared. No, _terrified_. I was scared. Me and Gwen and Owen were all bricking it walking up to that alert earlier. But we’re lucky, it’s okay. No cyber-invasion today, Mr Jones.”

“Thank God for that.” Ianto said with a small chuckle. He looked up at Jack, eyes bright blue through a sheet of unshed tears. “Do you think I’m weak?” Ianto’s voice was so soft and broken, it shattered Jack’s heart into a million pieces. He pulled Ianto into a full hug, noticing Ianto throw the unfinished cigarette into the water before he clung on desperately. They held each other for a moment, Jack’s strong arms crushing Ianto against him.

“No Ianto, I do not think you are weak. I think you’re the strongest, bravest, most wonderful man I know.” He pulled back slightly and cupped Ianto’s cheeks with both hands, staring into his eyes. “Don’t ever let anyone, including yourself, make you believe otherwise. Okay?” Ianto nodded, and fell back into Jack’s hug.

They were interrupted by a beeping coming from Jack’s wrist strap. Jack pulled back, one arm still around Ianto’s waist, and looked at the device. He frowned. “What is it?” Ianto asked, straining to see Jack’s wrist, but understanding nothing of what was on there. Jack grumbled.

“Rift activity nearby. Come on, we better get downstairs.” They untangled themselves from each other and walked back towards the hub hand in hand. Ianto felt calmer than he had all day, though still rattled with nerves settled in the pit of his stomach. He felt ready to get on with the day, whatever happened next.


	3. The Honey Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry in advance
> 
> TW: Non-graphic description of bodily harm/electrocution

As Jack and Ianto came through the cog door and back into the main hub, they found it a flurry of activity. Both Owen and Tosh were at their computers, typing in a frenzy and talking in unintelligible technobabble. Gwen was hovering, pacing behind them and asking unhelpful questions. Every now and again she would glance nervously to the containment box, tucked in the corner by the sofa, as if afraid it might start moving. Jack and Ianto came up to the main level and looked to Tosh’s screen.

“What have we got then?” Jack asked, leaning over Tosh’s shoulder. She looked mildly annoyed by this action, and rolled her eyes as she began to explain the readings.

“Several readings, five or six, we can’t be sure. All in this cluster of warehouses by the docks. Not getting a solid lock on what they could be, and the CCTV is coming up empty.” She looked back and up to Jack, who was frowning. He stood with a long sigh, then half grinned at Tosh.

“Better get going then. No time like the present.” He turned to the rest of the team. “Gear up, nice and quickly.” Tosh, Gwen and Owen all moved as one, gathering their supplies, guns and protective vests. Jack turned back to Ianto, who was hovering behind, unsure. He approached him quietly, and quickly checked behind them to see that the rest of the team weren’t watching.

“I know you’re still a bit shaken from this morning, and I don’t want to ask you to do this. I hope you know I wouldn’t unless it was absolutely necessary. Which it is. There’re too many readings, we can't afford to be a man down…” Jack smoothed his hands down Ianto’s arms and caught his hands. “I hope you understand.”

Ianto smiled. That gorgeous, disarming smile that always had Jack feeling weak at the knees. “Of course I understand, Jack. You can hardly play favourites. Plus, I’m feeling a lot better now.” Ianto squeezed Jack’s hands. “I want to go. It’ll be a good distraction.” Ianto started to pull away, but Jack grabbed him again, and softly ran his thumb across the hairs on the back of his hand.

“You aren’t worried about what we’ll find?” Jack asked sincerely. Ianto looked at Jack with a sad smile, and stepped closer, almost whispering into his ear.

“I’m always worried about what we’ll find, Jack.” He kissed Jack’s cheek, then stepped away, walking to the armoury to pick up his gun and other equipment. Jack watched him go, heart clenching tightly in his chest. What he would do for Ianto Jones…

\-----

It was just starting to rain as the five members of Torchwood Three arrived at the location. The rain a welcome change, breaking the long days of stifling heat they’d been enduring. It needed to storm. As they walked the couple of minutes to the cluster of warehouses, Ianto felt a wave of nerves wash over him. He’d been fine at the hub. After his long chat with Jack he’d felt clearer in his mind, still shaken, but a bit more together. He’d been so rattled that morning, so afraid of what the day might turn into. And now, walking towards a series of unknown signals, his stomach churned. He pressed on, knowing there was no time for fear here. He was doing his job, a job he was bloody good at. Time to prove it, as much to himself as anyone else.

There were 4 large warehouses, all in a square formation. The area was silent, as if no one, not even one solitary workman, was there. The team stepped closer, Tosh looking closely at her PDA. The rain was coming down heavier now, marking the screen with droplets.

“Two in the warehouse to the left.” She pointed with her free hand. “Two in the one behind, then one in each of the two on the right.” She turned to Jack. “How do you want to do this?”

Jack frowned, mulling over his options. He didn’t want to leave Ianto on his own, but he also didn’t want it to look like he was playing favourites. He looked at the team, and replayed Tosh’s information through his head. “Gwen, Tosh, you each take one warehouse on the right. Keep in touch via comms at all times, okay?” Gwen and Tosh nodded, then took off towards the warehouses to their right. “Owen, take the one behind. You okay with the two signals to yourself?” Owen grinned, and cocked his gun dramatically. Swung around his back was a large medical kit, he tapped it twice as if reminding himself and Jack that it was there.

“No problem at all. I’m a big boy now.” He winked. “Scream if anyone needs a med kit. I’ll let you know what I find.” He gave Jack a half wave, smiled at Ianto reassuringly, and ran off towards his warehouse. Jack turned to Ianto, and gestured they make a move towards the fourth, and final, warehouse.

*

The sheer size of the first room was staggering. Ianto felt dwarfed under the huge ceiling, and exposed with the vast amount of nothingness either side of him. Jack was right there next to him, his anchor in the storm. They both held their guns tightly as they advanced through the warehouse. They were silent, their footsteps echoing too loudly, making Ianto shiver. Out of the corner of his eye, Ianto saw Jack check his wrist strap.

“Two readings. One either side and about half way down. You take left, I’ll go right.” Jack whispered. Ianto nodded in the semi darkness and began to move. He felt more confident now they were in, but his stomach was still doing flips with every tiny noise he heard. He half expected to feel a cold, metallic hand on his shoulder with every step he took, with every breath. The huge windows above him cast rippling light patterns on the ground as the rain hammered against them. The tiny movements tricking Ianto’s eyes into thinking they’d seen something more. They approached the point of the signals, but Ianto still couldn’t see anything. The warehouse was so eerily quiet, he found it hard to believe there could be anything there at all. He jumped as Owen’s voice appeared in his ear.

“Nothing here, as far as I can tell anyway. Anyone else having any luck?” Ianto shook his head, even though Owen couldn’t see him. Tosh responded, her voice quiet and distorted through the comm. “Nothing here either. Just a whole load of crap. Old car parts and what I think might be a section from an Aldërtron ship engine. I recognise the fuel capsule.” Tosh’s voice was filled with a quiet wonder. Jack let out a low, impressed whistle.

“We’ll need to grab that, Tosh. If you can’t find anything to do with these readings, run back to the car and get the containment box and start packing that up. We’ll have a nose later for any other bits and pieces.”

“Roger.” Tosh’s voice cut out, and Ianto imagined her speed-walking through the network of buildings and back towards the SUV. He refocused his mind on the task at hand. He fished his own PDA out from his pocket and read the readings on the screen. The alert was coming from a few feet in head of him. Even in the low light of the warehouse, Ianto could see there wasn’t anything physical there. He ran through the possibilities in his head, noticing Jack’s footsteps had stopped. Maybe he’d found something? Maybe the reading was simply an energy build up. If there was alien technology nearby, it could make sense for several energy clustered to be within close range. Perhaps the rift had opened ever so slightly, enough to register on their systems, but not enough to let anything through. Like scar tissue. A wound, but not an open one. 

Before Ianto could finish his train of thought, he heard Jack yell from across the warehouse. He immediately spun on his feet and shone the torch to where Jack had been. He could see him, just about, lying on the floor. At least Ianto assumed that was him. It was too dark to tell. All the worst possible scenarios ran through Ianto’s mind at lightening speed. They were here. The cybermen. Ianto listened for the stomp of metal boots, the hissing of their joints with each step. He heard nothing. Not even Jack. He called out to him. “Jack?!” Nothing. Panic settled deep in Ianto’s gut. He started across the room, his walk breaking into a jog, then into a full speed run. He could see Jack as he ran closer. It was definitely him. He was lying, unconscious on the floor. Something had attacked him. Something wa-

Ianto never got to finish his thought, as he was knocked across the head and fell to the ground. As unconscious as Jack, but with much less chance of survival.

\-----

The room was dark. The only light coming from a dim bulb, hanging by a chain from the ceiling and swaying. Back and forth. And back and forth. That was the first thing Ianto noticed when he came to. The bulb. Back and forth. Back and forth. He blinked several times. Noticing then his aching head, and the fact he couldn’t move. He wriggled his arms experimentally and felt the sharp pain of zip ties digging into the soft flesh of his wrists. Several zip ties. He shuffled his feet. Tied to the chair legs. As he suspected. His shoes and socks were gone. That’s when he noticed his feet were wet. No. Not just wet. _In water._

A quick and intense burst of panic jolted him up. He lifted his head, too quickly, and a jab of pain hit him square between the eyes. He tried to yell out. But he couldn’t. His mouth was covered with tape. He purposely slowed his breathing. _Okay_. This wasn’t the first time Ianto Jones had found himself tied to a chair in a place he didn’t recognise. Be it a fair few of those times had ended rather nicely, much nicer than he imagined this would. But this wasn’t Jack playing a game, this was something far more sinister. He was confident he could cope with this. This wasn’t cybermen. Cybermen didn’t kidnap people. Not like this anyway.

 _Jack._ The thought made him jump again. Jack. He’d been on the floor, injured, possibly dead. Ianto pulled against his bindings, shuffling the chair backwards. He flipped his head back and forth looking around, trying to see if Jack was nearby. If only they were here together. That would be okay. They could do anything if they were together, they could _get through anything_ if they were together. Then a chilling voice cut through Ianto’s panic.

“He’s not here.”

Ianto whipped his head round to where the voice was coming from. And there he noticed the thing he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen before. Two metres in front of him, shrouded in the darkness, was a man. Ianto couldn’t make out his face. He was sat on a chair, the same as Ianto’s, just watching. Ianto started squirming again, trying to get out of his seat and away. He heard the man sigh dramatically, like this was boring him. He reached over to his side and twisted a nob on a machine perched next to him on a small table.

Pain ricocheted up Ianto’s legs into his body. He screamed out through his gag. Tears of insufferable agony were forced out of his eyes as he clenched them shut. The pain stopped as suddenly as it began. Ianto sagged against the chair, spent and exhausted. He blinked his eyes open, and noticed two electrical cables running from the tray of water at his feet, to the machine sat next to the man. The man was tutting to himself, like Ianto was a disappointing school kid, who’s simply forgotten his homework.

“Pathetic.” The man muttered. He stood, causing Ianto to flinch. He began to walk slowly to Ianto, and as his face became Illuminated, Ianto was sure he recognised him. He couldn’t place him though. A rough slap across his face jolted Ianto. He let out a grunt of pain and could barely open his eyes. He noticed the man lifting his arm again, Ianto prepared for another slap, but none came. The man was checking his watch.

“Ahh, look at the time Ianto.” The man chuckled, cold as ice. “Just gone midnight, you know what that means…” He leaned down to face Ianto at eye level. His warm breath dancing across Ianto’s cheeks. It smelt terrible, causing Ianto to screw up his nose. The man grabbed Ianto by the face in one hand, and grinned at him. He showed all his yellow teeth like some kind of feral beast. Ianto’s breath caught, fear grabbling his lungs in a vice like grip.

“Happy Birthday, Ianto Jones.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Ianto! Your present this year is a brutal kidnapping ;) 
> 
> Okay forreal, I am sorry lmao. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next one is gonna be pretty interesting, so let me know what you think is gonna happen, and who may have kidnapped Ianto!! Will hopefully have an update to you before the end of the weekend!
> 
> Hope you're all doing good and staying healthy <3


	4. Making The Monster

Ianto was running. Faster than he’d ever run in his life. They’d been trapped, blocked off by two cybermen standing guard of an empty corridor. But they’d suddenly moved, by the grace of a God Ianto did not believe in, they had moved away, and then Ianto was running. He and Claire from Artefacts and Simon from accounting. Ianto didn’t know if they were still behind him, he only knew that he had to move, to find Lisa and to get out of the building. He was on the 26th floor, he knew that much, but the doors to the stairwells were all locked, and their key cards weren’t working.

Ianto heard the stomp of heavy metal boots and stopped dead in his tracks. Someone bumped into him from behind. Claire. He didn’t stop to wonder where Simon was, he knew he wouldn’t like the answer. They were coming. They had to hide before they came around that corner. Ianto looked to his left, a door. He threw himself at it, dragging Claire with him. It opened. Ianto and Claire fell to the ground in the cramped storage cupboard, the light off and the sound of their heavy breathing far too loud. The stomping footsteps got louder and Ianto found himself covering his own mouth to stop a terrified sob coming out. _Please God do not open that door. Please. Please let me live…_

Ianto jumped hearing a shrieking voice outside the door shouting his name. It was Simon. They listened with bated breath. Simon’s running and shouting stopped suddenly, presumably as he saw the Cybermen along the corridor. Claire made to grab the door handle, but Ianto clamped his hand around her arm and pulled her into him. He put his hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, and closed his eyes as the sounds of Simon’s brutal murder permeated through the thin wooden door.

Ianto didn’t know how long they sat like that. It could have been minutes or hours. But all he could hear was Simon’s scream, long after it had stopped. The next thing Ianto knew was hands around his throat. It seemed he and Claire were not as alone in that supply cupboard as they had thought. His hands flew up to his neck, meeting the unknown pair clamped around his jugular. Claire’s scream of terror panicked him more than the fact he was being suffocated, at least whoever was strangling him was human. Who knew what horrors Claire’s yelling would attract. He jolted his elbow back, winding the perpetrator behind him. He heard a grunt, and the hold on his neck eased. Ianto fell forward, coughing a gasping for air. He turned, still coughing, and saw a familiar, if tear stained, face.

“Alexander?” Stammered Ianto, his voice scratchy. “Wha- What the hell?” This launched Ianto into another coughing fit. Claire was crouched in the corner, face white as a sheet and fresh tears streaming down her face.

“You- You did this to me!” Alexander sobbed. He was still doubled over, cradling his stomach where Ianto had elbowed him.

“What? Did… Did what?” Ianto backed up against the door, lowering his voice in case anyone (or thing) came by.

“You got me that-that _job_. I saw them come through, Ianto, I saw them kill everyone!” Alex fell back against the shelves, fresh tears spilling over his cheeks. Ianto sighed, rubbing at his soar throat. After Alex had begged him to talk to Yvonne about a promotion to the ghost shift team, Ianto had done just that. And surprisingly, Yvonne had agreed. Alex had been moved up to a research position, and had been so grateful to Ianto, he’d bought him a bottle of his favourite gin. Alex’s tenure in that department appeared to have been very short lived, as a month after securing the job, the cybermen came through, and the sphere opened. Alex had been there as the first of them came through, he’d witnessed the first deaths. He’d managed to escape to a lower floor by the skin of his teeth before the stairwells were locked down. He was terrified.

Ianto blinked, hardly believing what he was hearing. “You begged me for that job, Alex! You begged me to put a word in for you and I did!” Ianto couldn’t help it as he started to cry, so exhausted and horrified by all he’d seen so far that day. And now being blamed for something that in the grand scheme of all the tragedy they’d witnessed, was barely a drop in the ocean. “Do you even hear yourself, Alex? Everyone is dying, and we barely stand a chance of getting out of here alive, why do you care where you were when it happened?”

Alex’s face went from fear to anger in the blink of an eye, he was suddenly on his feet, and staring down at Ianto with a fierce look in his eye. “Because now I’m a part of it! I helped it happen! You did this, you bastard!” Alex went for Ianto again, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him up. Claire screamed again. And despite everything, Ianto rolled his eyes. He let himself get dragged up, and let Alex punch him once. Twice. Before it got old. Ianto swung his fist round and up, catching Alex’s jaw with a sickening crunch. He lifted his knee into Alex’s stomach and watched as the younger man fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t what to do that, but I don’t have the time. I have to find Lisa, and I have to get out of here.” Ianto turned to Claire. “Are you coming?” She nodded, unable to speak. Ianto gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, as reassuring as he could get after just knocking a man unconscious. He gently opened the store room door, and seeing that the coast was clear, ushered Claire out. They rushed to the stairwell entrance, broke the glass of the door and tripped the locking system.

It was hours before Ianto made it out. Claire was caught, a cyberman came out of nowhere and grabbed her, taking her to the conversion rooms. Ianto managed to duck behind a wall and avoid capture. Claire’s screams would haunt him for years to come. He hid. He sat with the dying, held their hands as they took their last breaths. He moved down each floor in turn, checking every room for the woman he loved. He felt sick every time he heard those heavy metal boots, and he hoped each time they wouldn’t see him. He thought the night would never end.

But as all things do, eventually the end came. All the cybermen and daleks were sucked into the void. Of course, all Ianto knew at the time was that they had all disappeared. He still moved slowly through the building, finding almost no survivors. He prayed he wasn’t the last one. Then he found her, he couldn’t believe it. He pulled her out and got her to the safety of a nearby abandoned building.

He returned to the site as the emergency services were arriving. He hovered outside, watching from a slight distance as the survivors came out, one by one. Twenty Seven, including Ianto, out of nearly nine hundred people. That was all that had survived. Ianto saw Alex, beaten and bruised, being wrapped up in a shock blanket by a paramedic. For a moment, Alex looked up, and their eyes met. But Ianto couldn’t stop long, not even long enough to apologise. He snuck back into the building, got the supplies he needed for Lisa before Torchwood Three or UNIT arrived, then left to make the long journey back to Cardiff. His job from that moment onwards consisted only of saving Lisa’s life. And to do that, he needed to get into Torchwood Three. The rest, as they say, is history.

Except while Ianto secured his job at Torchwood Cardiff and got on with saving Lisa, the other Twenty-six survivors of the Canary Wharf battle were left to cope alone. They, unlike Ianto, had no purpose. Many of them had lost everything in that battle. They were abandoned by the organisation. UNIT wanted nothing to do with them, Torchwood Three were certainly closed doors. Despite many who had called Jack, begging for jobs and help, anything. Jack always turned them down. Well… with one particular exception.

So many drifted, ended up retconned back to infancy or locked in institutes because they couldn’t handle the pain. Out of Twenty-Seven, eight spent the rest of their days locked in small white rooms at a UNIT approved asylum; six were retconned successfully and returned to civilian life with no memory of their trauma; two were able to secure jobs at UNIT, offered reluctantly and only because of their experience; five killed themselves within the year; four ended up homeless, lost to the streets with no purpose or family to take them in; one was taken in by Torchwood Three, unknown to them that he was manipulating them to save his girlfriend; and the final survivor drifted in London for some time until realising his true purpose: to get revenge on Torchwood for all they did to him, and on the man who brought him to the front line.

\-----

Alex had left London 4 months after the battle. During those long and painful months, he had suffered greatly at the hands of UNIT ‘phycologists’ who threatened him with a life sentence in one of their facilities if he couldn’t pull it together. They medicated him, attempted to wipe his memories, asked him for information about Torchwood’s running, the management and technology. When he was eventually allowed to leave, after feigning a mental stability he did not feel he had achieved, he drifted for a while. Alex had been unsure what was next. He was haunted by the memories of Canary Wharf, the terrible things he had seen and felt. He wanted someone to pay. But more than that, he wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere again. He spent the long and lonely nights remembering the team he’d been a part of during the ghost shifts and the work he’d done. How fulfilled he’d been. How loved. Even though it was such a short time. Alex longed for it, and he found himself on the long train from London to Cardiff. He was going in search of the man he had once asked for a favour, who had given him the last place he’d felt at home. Alex was going to Cardiff to find Ianto Jones.

He’d arrived at Cardiff Central Station in the same clothes he’d been wearing since he’d left the UNIT psych ward. They’d dumped him out the door with nowhere to go, no money or place to live. He stumbled through the station to the street outside prompting odd looks and disgusted faces. Alex had managed to find Ianto’s address through hacking the Cardiff city council database. He’d always been good with computers. So, after a bit of wrangling, and offering all the money he had to a begrudging cab driver, Alex was on his way to Grangetown.

Ianto hadn’t been at home when Alex arrived at the small flat building, so he sat outside his door until he returned. It had been hours, but Alex simply let his mind drift in and out of memories. In and out of Canary Wharf and the dark UNIT room he’d spent so long in, in and out of happy and sad. When the lift doors opened and Ianto Jones stepped out, looking tired and out of it, he’d stopped dead in his tracks. Alex had scrambled to his feet, eager and nervous. Ianto looked like he could have thrown up, but never one to be uncourteous, he invited Alex in.

They’d sat at Ianto’s small kitchen table and made polite conversation. Ianto didn’t want to talk to him, Alex could tell. The last time they’d seen each other Alex had tried to strangle Ianto, and Ianto had ended up punching him in the face so hard he knocked him out. It wasn’t easy to look at each other. But that night they’d all been in so much pain and so afraid, it was understandable. Ianto sipped his coffee and looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact. Alex had asked, as politely as he could, “Do you think I could have a job at Torchwood Three, like you?” And Ianto had sighed. Alex knew then and there and it was a no. This time Ianto really did have no sway in the department, he wasn’t Yvonne Hartman’s PA anymore, he was a glorified barista and maid. Alex had listened, and couldn’t help but feel it was unfair that all Ianto did was seem to get jobs, and all Alex seemed to do was beg Ianto go help him do the same. It was pathetic.

As Ianto led him out of the flat, they’d made empty promises to each other, saying they’d stay in touch, that they’d get coffee. They never would. Alex knew that. As a gesture, Ianto gave Alex a contact number for Jack Harkness, so if he really wanted to follow up on the job he could call or email the boss. Torchwood three worked different to London, Ianto had told him, with Jack you just had to be persistent. And that had been it.

For months he’d tried ringing Jack Harkness. He’d begged for a job. A place. Anything. He begged to be part of the team, begged to have a purpose and a function and a family. He watched as the team got closer, as Ianto started becoming one of them. He followed them to crash sites and alien captures and every time he was pushed to the side. Jack never returned his calls, and eventually they stopped going through. The one time he had spoken to Jack, the Captain had told him in no uncertain terms that there was no place for him at Torchwood Three. So that was that. Torchwood didn’t want him. UNIT wanted to lock him up. There was nowhere. And once the pain had faded, a sour taste burned his mouth. He was angry. Betrayed. _Why did no one want him?_

After Jack had mysteriously disappeared and mysteriously reappeared a few months later, Alex began to see a changing dynamic from afar. There was Ianto Jones’s happy ending. He had it all. The friends. The job. The boss who looked at him _that_ way. The suits and the smile and the future. Alex had nothing. And he began to hate Ianto, and all of Torchwood for stripping him of everything that had made him happy.

That’s when an opportunity had presented itself, and a plan had begun to form. Alex was going watch them all burn, and he’d love every minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All! Sorry that took a couple days longer than expected to get out, and that it's not been a particularly long chapter. To be honest, I've just had a really shit week, and it's been really hard to find my writing motivation. Or really any motivation at all. I'm behind on many things lmao. But I didn't and don't want to let this story die. It's planned to the end, I just need to write it. And i'm really excited to see what you guys think. I just hope you can be patient with me as I catch up on the other bits i've dropped the ball on this week, and sort myself out. I really hope you like this chapter, and the bits of backstory it provides. We'll be back up to the present day in the next chapter, so look forward to more !tortured Ianto! (yaay)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! And hopefully see you soon for the next chapter x


	5. The Calm Before The Storm

The slap to his face jolted Ianto out of his half sleep. He had no idea how long he had been in this dingy warehouse. After the brief words his captor and him had shared, the mysterious man had once again returned to the shadows, leaving Ianto to doze in pain. But now he was forced awake; he was afraid to open his eyes, but he did anyway. The bleary face of the man keeping him came into the light, and Ianto tensed in anticipation of what would happen next.

“You really are having trouble recognising me, aren’t you Ianto.” The man walked away from him, and sat heavily in the chair opposite. He idly played with the buttons that controlled the electricity connected to the water at Ianto’s feet. Ianto felt a sharp but quick pain in his toes, the smallest sparks that jumpstarted his nervous system. He jumped, recoiling from the pain he had no means to escape. The man chuckled.

“I’d be offended. I really would be. But it’s unsurprising. You swan around this city in your suits, Jack Harkness on your arm, and you forget about us _mere mortals_ out here in the real world.” The man twisted the nob again, sending shooting pains up Ianto’s legs. He screamed behind his gag, tears unwillingly spilling down his cheeks. “God, Ianto. This is pathetic. Look at you. Crying, _weeping_. If you could speak you’d be begging me to let you go. And I wouldn’t. I hold all the power here.” The man shut the machine off, then stormed towards Ianto, who was still reeling from the electrocution. He grabbed Ianto’s hair and pulled his head back, bringing their faces together, inches from each other. “Do you see, Ianto?” The man whispered. “Do you see what you did to me?”

That’s when it clicked. Ianto’s eyes widened, and he saw a face he recognised from a different life, a different time. Those eyes. He recognised them behind the unkept man with the straggly beard – a world away from the clean shaven, sharply dressed young upstart Ianto knew from London. Those manic eyes that Ianto had last looked into in a dingy storeroom on the worst day of his life. They were desperate. They were dangerous. Those eyes haunted him. And there they were, inches from his face and in complete control of his life. Ianto swallowed, and nodded.

Alex gently reached for the duct tape over Ianto’s mouth and peeled it back. The motion was agony in itself, the adhesive pulling on the skin and hair around Ianto’s mouth. When the tape was gone, Ianto breathed heavily. “Alex…” Alex smiled darkly, and spat at Ianto. He pulled away, walking back a few steps and beginning to pace. “Alex. I don’t understand… I haven’t seen you in _years_ ; why now? In god’s name, why now!?”

Alex stopped pacing and looked at Ianto, hate radiating from his very being. It shut Ianto up immediately. This was a dangerous man. “Why?” Alex drew the word out, then took a shuddering breath. “You–you with your fancy suits and your fancy flat and the job you didn’t even deserve. _You_ with the friends and the Captain and the place you belong! How dare you ask me why!? You took everything from me! And I want you to pay!” Alex suddenly charged at Ianto, punching him across the face again and again. Ianto spat blood. He cried out in pain, but it only spurred Alex on. Alex punched at his face, his gut, he kicked at Ianto’s chair and watched as Ianto helplessly fell to the ground, still tied painfully to it.

Ianto grunted as he hit the floor, and a part of his mind suddenly detached. He was no longer trapped by a madman, tied to a chair and being beaten within an inch of his life. He was at home, in his flat. Jack was there. The kettle had just boiled and he was cradling hot tea against his chest as the TV whirred mindlessly in the background. He felt no pain, he felt no fear. He simply _was_. He closed his eyes and stayed there; safe and loved and _home_.

\-----

Ianto had been missing for 12 hours, 25 minutes, and Jack estimated, about 14 seconds. He felt sick to his stomach. It was gone midnight, and the team still saw no chance of getting back to their beds any time soon. Jack had woken up on the floor of the warehouse to Owen’s concerned face. Owen told him that he and Ianto had both dropped off their comms suddenly, and when Owen and Gwen had come to investigate, they’d found Jack unconscious and Ianto nowhere to be seen. After searching at the scene for the better part of an hour and finding nothing, not even a shred of evidence as to where Ianto had gone, they had returned to the hub to continue the search remotely. That was hours ago. And they had nothing.

Gwen was, and had been for nearly 5 hours, trawling through all of the CCTV footage from the area, searching for any sign of Ianto. She was checking abandoned buildings with still functioning security systems, as well as offices, shopping centres and the town centre. Anywhere. And nothing. Owen was out in his car, driving around the warehouses near where Ianto had gone missing, scanning for any alien or rift energy. He was desperately hoping to find nothing, lest he correctly prove his theory that Ianto had been taken by the rift. Jack was sat on the sofa under the faded Torchwood sign. He’d spent the first few hours furious, charging around the hub, ordering the team about, and shouting about how foolish he’d been. That had worn off quick. And now he was sat, replaying the whole morning over and over again in his head. He should never have taken Ianto out into the field after the scare they’d had with the cyberman. He was an idiot. A foolish, heartless idiot.

Toshiko had been the busiest all day. As soon as they’d arrived at the hub she’d set about creating several running programs that would track rift energy, traffic patterns, security cameras, facial recognition, hospital admissions and police reports. All of these programs were happily sprinting away on her computer, reading to let them know if Ianto appeared through any of them, or if any unusual activity was reported that could lead them anywhere. As her computer did all the heavy lifting, Tosh was taking a closer look at the cyberman parts they had picked up that morning. It seemed like years ago that the 3 of them had arrived at the location of the alert, expecting a cyber fleet and finding nothing but a few scraps of metal. She wanted to understand it more. It was rare that anyone had the opportunity to study cybernetics. Most of the cybermen had been returned to the void, according to a report about Canary wharf she'd read, and the rest had been stamped out either by Torchwood, UNIT or the Doctor, pretty much as soon as they appeared. This meant there was very little in the way of research going on, and Toshiko loved nothing more than deep diving into a new topic. And part of her hoped understanding what had happened with the cyberman that morning would help them figure out what had happened to Ianto. It was a long shot, but she couldn’t help feeling like these two incidents were connected.

It felt strange to her that the very morning of Ianto’s disappearance, the very thing he feared the most threatened to come through the rift. She had seen Ianto take on weevils without breaking a sweat, seen him deal with impending invasions, and blow fish pointing their guns at him. She’d seen him kidnapped and beaten and nearly killed at the hands of cannibals. And every time he picked himself up; every _single_ time he woke up the next day with a half-smile on his face ready to tackle the day. He was one of the strongest people she had ever known, and one of the most capable. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the one threat that set his teeth on edge would come through the rift the very morning he would go missing. Tosh frowned as she studied the charred metal. It had to be connected.

\-----

Ianto blinked his eyes open. They felt tired and crusted over. He was still laying uncomfortably on the hard, concrete floor of the warehouse. Ianto blinked a few more times, trying to adjust to the darkness after his unscheduled sleep. Looking around, he saw a strange collection of lights not far from him. There was a bright white one, shaped like a fuzzy rectangle, then lots of little red and blue and pink ones. They dotted around the rectangle and almost seemed playful in the way they flickered and danced across Ianto’s vision. He blinked again and realised why the world seemed that much blurrier. His contact lenses had completely dried out. He’d been wearing them for far too long. Ianto had no idea how long he’d been stuck with Alex, but it was too long. He blinked frantically, trying to get some moisture back to his eyes. Slowly, the blurred warehouse began to sharpen up. His eyes still ached, and he could feel every edge of the small plastic disc against his eye, but he could see.

Alex was standing by the brighter lights. It was a computer. He was typing frantically. Ianto could see only half of his face, but he could clearly make out the sadistic smile playing across his lips. Ianto groaned involuntarily as he adjusted himself on the floor, his arm was dead under him, maybe even broken. He couldn’t tell. He definitely had a couple of cracked ribs, his chest felt shallow and painful every time he breathed in. He ached everywhere. Alex’s head turned at the sound of Ianto’s pained groan. He was grinning.

“Ahh, look who’s awake. And just in time for the show!” Alex rushed towards Ianto, who flinched, scrunching his eyes up. He felt Alex lift him and his chair up. It felt odd to be considered so weightless, that he could just be lifted and thrown wherever someone else wanted. It made Ianto want to bear down, make himself heavier somehow… His eyes were still tightly shut as he felt Alex pushing the chair forward. It made a stomach-churning screech against the concrete floor. Ianto felt the urge to clamp his hands over his ears, but he couldn’t. For obvious reasons. The chair stopped, and Ianto chanced opening his eyes a crack. He saw the lights. Alex had pushed him towards the computer, and now Ianto was only a couple of feet away, he could see what the screen was displaying.

Rift readings.

Ianto’s jaw dropped. “How do have these readings?” He choked out. Alex was laughing behind him. He leaned forward so they were cheek to cheek, and grabbed Ianto’s chin roughly, and pulled him closer to the screen. The screen was showing a reading for a huge rift opening just outside of Cardiff. Massive. A reading that big… something huge was coming through. Ianto’s head was swimming with the meaning of this. Could it be the cybermen coming through? Or something else? Something _worse_? He struggled against his restraints. “I need to get out. I need to help them!” He pulled on his bindings, thrashing against Alex and knocking him weakly with his head in the process. Alex stood up straight and rolled his eyes. “They could die! I need to go and help them! _Please_ …”

“Oh Ianto…” Alex reached down to Ianto’s arms, almost as if he was going to undo his wrist restraints. Ianto let himself believe this could be it, his freedom... But no. Alex just pinched his arm hard and pulled the zip tie painfully, tightening it. Ianto let out a sob of frustration and got a smack round the head for his troubles. “Ianto, Ianto, Ianto. You really are pathetic.” He gestured to the screen. “There is no rift alert.”

Ianto’s head snapped up and around. He stared at Alex. “What?”

Alex pointed to the screen. “There is no rift alert. Well, not yet anyways.”

Ianto’s head boggled in confusion. “But I can see it. It’s there, on the screen. You’ve hacked into the Torchwood mainframe.” Alex was shaking his head and giggling.

“No I haven’t, _well…_ yes I have. But not in order to see the readings, in order to plant them.”

Ianto gaped. “No…”

Alex actually clapped his hands with excitement. “Yes! Even your science-y one didn’t notice! That’s how good I am!”

“The warehouses… the readings… there was nothing there…”

Alex was nodding as Ianto figured it out. He was giddy. “Yes! Nothing at all. I just needed you out the hub. Couldn’t exactly waltz in and grab you.”

“But the rest of the team was there? How could you possibly have planned to have got me then? Why didn’t you wait until I was on my way home?”

Alex scoffed “Aside from the fact you rarely make your way home on your own these days,” He gave Ianto a pointed look. “I wanted to show your precious Jack how temporary and _breakable_ his precious team is. You all swan around like you’ve got everything in the world. Like you’re part of something special, something untouchable. It’s not true. Look at how easily I’ve just shattered everything. I’ve hacked your systems, planted fake readings to get you out of the hub, to _scare_ you… And none of you even knew! You didn’t even know I was watching you! _For over a year_! How _thick_ do you have to be?” Alex turned away from Ianto, walking off into the warehouse and cackling. Ianto’s head was working a mile a minute. He was connecting the dots, and his conclusion made him feel sick to his stomach.

“So, what’s next? Why am I here, really? If that alert is fake, you’re sending the team out on a wild goose chase. What happens next?”

Alex turned to look back at Ianto with a sickening smile. Ianto could see every one of his teeth, and the raw, animal look in his eyes. Alex stalked closer to Ianto again, and crouched so his was level to his face.

“Oh Ianto, now _that_ would be telling.”

\---

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The low sound of the scanner resonated in Toshiko’s hand and around the cold walls of the autopsy room as she ran it over the remaining cyberman parts. She was puzzled to say the least. The readings were making very little sense. It had been another hour, and still no Ianto. Gwen was starting to get irritable and angry after hours of staring at a screen with no success. She was looking to pick a fight with anyone. But as Owen wasn’t there, Tosh was working, and Jack was too upset, she was just arguing with herself. Owen was still out, driving around. He’d called in half an hour ago to let them know he was leaving the warehouses. There was definitely nothing there that could help them. He was even struggling to pick up the faintest reads of residual rift energy, which was very unusual. It was all unusual, Toshiko mused as she fiddled with the scanner. Why hadn’t they found anything? Why couldn’t they pick up anything now. It was almost like the readings at the warehouse weren’t even real.

She stopped. Her mind was connecting dots before she could even have the conscious thoughts. She wasn’t picking up any residual rift energy from the cyberman, which was deeply unusual for any artefact that had just come through the rift. They were normal radiating it, a sure sign that they had just come through. If this cyberman wasn’t presenting residual energy, then what was her conclusion? That it didn’t come through the rift. And if it didn’t come through the rift, what did that mean? Someone, or some _thing_ had put it there for them to find.

Tosh was just about to call Jack over to have a look and discuss this theory with him, when the rift alarm sounded. It was a loud ringing sound. Not one of her alerts she’d set up to go off if Ianto appeared, no. This was a big one. She rushed to her computer, but Jack was already there, reading off her monitor with a worried look.

“What is it?” She asked, quickly.

Jack looked gravely at her. “Something big. We have to leave, right now!” He gestured to her and Gwen. They grabbed their guns and kits and were out the door in less than a minute.

The cog door alarm blared for a moment to an empty hub, then silence. The hub was always full of such life and activity, it was strange for It to be so quiet. The usual sounds of the rumbling generators, the ominous roars from down below – likely Janet letting the team know she was hungry, and Myfanwy’s screech’s as she soared across the upper levels, all seemed to have disappeared. And just… _silence_ … silence in the empty hub with no one there to make a sound. The calm before the storm.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the new story i've been working on for the past couple of days. It's been swimming round and round in my head in fragments all week, and this evening i finally managed to pin them all down and start properly writing. Ive got the next two chapters planned out, so they'll be up hopefully over the next couple of days. Needless to say this is also a slight Ianto's birthday fic as well, only if you squint really, but as its his birthday this week, I thought i should at least include that a little! Please let me know what you thought of this first chapter with as comment, and if you're looking forward to finding out what happens next! I'm really excited to be writing again! Hope you're all doing well in lockdown and staying healthy and as happy as you can be! Hope you enjoy!


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